The Mad King, and the King of Nightmares
by Jeggetts
Summary: Joseph longed to be free. To escape the waking hours of his life of being incapable of finding happiness even in dreams. He never expected his familiar summoning to fix his problems. Oneshot.


**Happy Halloween everybody!**

* * *

The blue haired woman sobbed as the monster held her precious daughter with one hand, and in the other, a wicked saber held in the other right at the childs stomach.

The man was grinning, his teeth gleaming in the torchlight of the stone hallway, the girld whimpering and sobbing being the only other source of sound in this empty castle. Until he spoke. "Well my oh my, you just get quicker and quicker in letting me get a hold her don't you?" He said, each word holding enough cruelty to rival the most diabolical of torture devices.

'Shut up… shut up you _monster!"_ The woman shrieked, tears falling from her eyes.

He scoffed, moving the saber closer, cutting the fabric of the childs shirt until his blade was resting directly on her stomach. "Your stupidity is the real monster. Throwing your mind away in a panic." He said, gesturing to the warped and twisted landscape around them. Hallways went up and down, stone occasionally replaced with other materials such as sand. Just beyond where they stood, the entire castle was a complete mess of rooms and hallways all twisting and winding, and this wasn't even his handiwork. Her mind was just this screwed up.

"Now my fault you were a dumb bitch. And still are…" He trailed off with a sing song tone, looking at the 'girl' with a contemptuous sneer.

" _Shut up!"_

"Mommy!" The child cried, writing in the mans had, struggling with all her might to get out casing the man to tighten his grip on her, threating to jam the sword through her stomach.

'Stop! Don't kill her, I'll do anything!" She pleaded. She spared a glance at missing pieces in her arm. She had bitten them out when he first arrived to torment her. She knew what happened in the dream would follow over, and she wasn't about to let her daughter die. If she could handle that, she could handle what he could throw at her next.

"…What would have me do?" She asked, bowing her head, waiting for the punishment the sick bastard had planned.

It was an understatement. They both had certain playthings, and she was his.

But how to play with her now? He mulled it over for a few seconds, looking between 'Charolette' and and her mother, before an idea struck him.

"Pull out your eyes." He said, enjoying the look of horror. She had toughed through her second trial, which involved breaking both of her feet against the foot of her bed, so he knew he need to do better this time. And it worked. Her bravado was gone.

The woman hesitated, only for a second, he knew she would comply, but he wanted some fun, and so did his partner.

In response, he dug the saber into the childs stomach, causing a high pitched scream as he dragged it width wise, blood smearing the swords edge.

"Stop! Stop! I'll do it…" She said, clenching her fists.

H grinned a bit wider and e took the sword away from the stomach. "Well? We're waiting." The man replied, patting the childs head as she looked on in horror at her mother.

She took a breath steeled herself, before digging into her right eye first, past it even.

"Mommy!"The child screamed, her look of horror being the last thing her right eye transmitted to her brain.

With a series of tugs, and a echoing snap, eventually the eye was tore free if it's socket. She threw it to the ground in a bloody mess, and vomited from the pain. She was shaking, but she wouldn't pass out. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Halfway there." He nearly laughed, his grin stretching a bit too far for his features, seemingly egged on by the panicked movements of the child in his grasp.

She whimpered, but the sounds of her child crying made her press on. She wasted little time in digging her fingers into her remaining one, gritted teeth muffling her wails of agony as she repeated the process with the other one, throwing it on the ground by the other one, completely blind now. She braced herself with her hands and knees.

"Please… just let her go." She sobbed her tear ducts still working it seemed like, her bleeding empty sockets pointed in the direction where she heard her child crying for her.

Had she had eyes to witness it, she would have seen the blue haired man licking his lips, eyeing the empty sockets with a perverse pleasure, thoughts entering his at the sight of them. He roughly dropped the kid, and she ran forth, hugging her mother, both clutching each other, before suddenly vanishing. Well, the mother did. The blue haired girl remained, looking a bit surprised, before letting out a howling laughter, as she changed back into the true form.

He still laughed, as he poked the eye on the edge of his blades looking at them as if they were a persona all their own.

"Look on the bright side, you got a hell of a distraction from the crows feet!" He laughed again, before casually gulping down the eyes with his tongue.

The blue haired man laughed. Oh Founder it felt so glorious! To be able to do such things honestly, without pretense, oh it was wonderful. He felt his smile threatening to snap off his face, and tears of happiness in his eyes as he looked to his partner, a severely burned ban wearing a red and green stripped sweater, wearing what he called a 'fedora' and his glove with four blades on all fingers but his thumb.

"Gotta say, I'm not a fan of taking her eyes. How are we gonna show her daughters decapitated now?"

"Well, don't worry. We got other senses to work with. I was thinking of having having her trying to differentiate two pieces of meat of which one could be her daughters cooked arm." They stared at each other, before sharing a laugh, before he put a blade to his chin in thought, ignoring him cutting himself in the process.

"Hey, this was only one half of the show, we're missing out on the encore." The burned man said, a longing sadistic gaze in his eyes.

"For you maybe. You know what happens when I wake up." The blue haired man said, his smile dropping.

"Don't worry, I'm getting stronger every day. I'll see If I can't get some shits and giggles for my ole buddy on the other side." He winked at him.

"Very well. I'm sure I will be woken up eventually." And with that, the world faded away.

…

When he awoke, King Joseph felt his face contorted into in what many would call a demonic smile, stretching his lips into a painful contortion. It felt like it had been stuck that way the past couple of hours.

And as his faculties came back to him, he felt reality snap around him, it's oppressive air not unlike that which he imposed on his victims when he felt like playing longer games with them. The weight of life was the ruler here, and he hated that.

He was at this worlds mercy here. It's pains, and inescapable and his mortal flesh bound by the cursed wounds.

He heard screaming, and he already knew who it was from. Getting out of bed, he unlocked his door with his spells, and soon joined the crowd of people all heading towards the room where his victim was.

The door was open, and he heard the clamoring of people inside, probably trying to restrain the blind madwoman as she thrashed in pain, and refusal to let go of her 'daughter', her doll. She truly was an idiot.

He stopped by the doorway, observing his handiwork in full, waiting for his partner to keep his word.

Her straps had been cut, likely by his partner, and she was bleeding from her empty sockets, screams for a water mage crying out.

He kept watching waiting, for something inside of him to stir. To be like the dreams in which he was liberated.

And, as he observed her empty eyes, he felt his mouth part in a smile, his tongue licking the outside of his lips as pure unadulterated pleasure shot through him.

He hid it quickly and departed from the scene, his lips begging to let loose in a few giggles. It was only a matter of time.

...

* * *

Throughout Galia, an unusual story began spreading. No one had known where it had come from, but it began captivating people, as any good horror story should.

The story of the sick man, a bastard son of a hundred maniacs. A man who had taken the lives of many children, before being burned for hims crimes, and coming back for revenge. A few changes here and there, and soon the story was ready for publishing, the servants overhearing their noble masters talk about it and it sent shivers down their spine. Even then, the pictures were more than enough to make them terrified of such a thing truly existing.

And as more people knew of it, the more Josephs friends powers grew. In a way, he supposed he should be grateful that Mr. Kreuger was known only by him at the time. He was furious about being taken, and if the threat of killing Joseph and blinking him out of existence didn't prevent it, Joseph was sure, he wouldn't be standing here right now.

But, what started out as a matter of pragmatism, seemed to turn into what most people would consider a warped friendship. The truth was, Freddy freed him. Freed him from the curse, of which not even killing his own brother could free him of. In his dreams, he could feel again, he was free of this waking curse he had to endure. it was intoxicating. In the dreams, they also felt just so much more than he ever was!

That made everything worth it. Nothing else mattered to him. No one could understand what it was, to have something like that taken from you, and expect to just carry one. No one.

There were minor annoyances to be sure. Like, since he began killing people, Joseph started feeling a tingling sensation in his head, and occasionally screaming coming from there was well. He was sure he recognized some of the voices too. He believed one of them was a knight. he must have forgotten the actual death report, but the screaming and pleading was barely an annoyance when he was awake, and outright goodness when he entered his true home. Trapped souls, would not deter him.

And really, his partners libido was something to behold. Every single youth he came across, be it male or female, he felt his eyes just snap to them, and he had to fight to keep it discreet. They might just burn the mad king yet if he gets caught doing something like that.

Though, as if that truly mattered in the long run. One day, this waking world would be even more meaningless to him than it already was. It may have taken two years, but his power was returning. As the stories spread, and people began actually seeing him in dreams, and now add the deaths in, the fear was feeding him, he wondered if it would be better for them to try and kill him. And fulfill that part of the story and show them the dangers of imitating things they had seen in books. If there was one part of his prison self to his free self that was simpatico, it was that.

It truly did not matter. Every day, the whispers of Freddy Krueger grew, with every new person made aware, and every kill made, Joseph knew he and Freddy would only get stronger, and nothing would stop them.

 _Isn't that right right Charolette and Isabelle?_ He thought to himself.

Two feminine screams whom he knew well withing his head told him his answer.


End file.
